


tracking water

by azureforest



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Domestic Fluff, M/M, Selectively Mute Character, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-19
Updated: 2018-11-19
Packaged: 2019-08-26 00:46:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16671553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/azureforest/pseuds/azureforest
Summary: the smell of soap does little to alleviate his utterly, completely and absolutely righteous fury.(it's fury, it really is!)





	tracking water

**Author's Note:**

> i have not been able to shut up about my ffxiv character for months and ive also been unable to finish anything for months, so please accept this humble offering of a drabble

“Aelin,” Gestalt sounds strained and a little winded as he bars the doorway, brandishing a clean towel threateningly. “You are tracking water all over the house.”

Aelin pops his head out from behind the bed, hair visibly soaked and shirt damper that it should be- A flick of his ear sends droplets of water across the sheets as he gives the elezen a shite-eating grin in return. The furrowed brow is amusing, his glasses threatening to slip off his nose endearing, and so he’d gladly give him the runaround a while longer- Gestalt would surely advance on him with time, else their chase end in a stalemate, and he knows that would be no fun.

Aelin just makes an indifferent noise in response, sprawling his arms over the bed, laying his head on the blanket, which elicited a squawk from the other- It would dry, no harm done, but the way it was apparently driving the other mad was hilarious to watch. Gestalt scowls and shakes the towel uselessly, looking as if he’s about to rush in and intervene, but teetering on the decision precariously- A restless shift from one foot to another, the tensing of his hands on the towel.

“You know  _ exactly  _ what you’re doing right now, don’t you?” He says, instead- It’s a rhetorical question, they’re both perfectly civilised men, Aelin’s just insisting on being a nuisance for once. A pause, as Gestalt’s eyes narrow at his persisting lazy grin. “I will  _ not _ suffer you catching a cold, you dolt.”

The miqo’te snorts.  _ Liar.  _ Gestalt takes a step forward, taking another when the other doesn't react. “I  _ will _ dry that accursed green mop of yours if it’s the last thing I do.”

The miqo’te has the gall, the sheer  _ audacity _ to  _ yawn _ . The elezen finally snaps, muttering a “warden preserve me”, and downright  _ lunges _ at him, socked feet sliding on the wood floor when Aelin darts out of the way and over the bed with a delighted cackle- Gestalt utters a curse, regaining his footing and edging back to bar the door to the bedroom again when Aelin doubles back and practically throws himself back onto the bed. There is a wet spot on the pillow where his head made contact. He cackles again, not unlike a mad Monetarist, when Gestalt realises that that is  _ his _ pillow.

Aelin barely has time to gloat before Gestalt shouts a scandalised “Ae _ lin! _ ”- And soon afterwards several ponzes of almost-annoyed, towel-wielding elezen barrel into him, hellbent on pinning him down and drying his damn hair before any more damage can be done.

Not that it was doing much damage in the first place, or that wrestling and tussling as they were wasn’t making it worse. Amidst name-calling and laughter and a tangle of limbs, Aelin eventually surrendered, laughing too hard to properly fight back, tail whapping against Gestalt’s leg in contentment as the other pulled the towel over the miqo’te’s eyes with a grumble.

A click of a tongue, a quiet tutting noise. “You’re insufferable.”

Aelin makes to butt his head against the other’s chest before he’s stopped by a faceful of towel- So he laughs instead, a loud, merry sound that still breaks and cracks but makes Gestalt laugh along all the same.


End file.
